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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29295855">double vision in rose blush</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eg1701/pseuds/eg1701'>eg1701</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tomgreg holiday specials [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Succession (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:42:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,360</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29295855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eg1701/pseuds/eg1701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom doesn't care much for Valentine's Day... until he discovers how much Greg <i>does.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Greg Hirsch/Tom Wambsgans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tomgreg holiday specials [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2280155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>double vision in rose blush</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i know it's not valentine's day yet but i will forget about this if i dont publish it when it's written so it's a valentine's day fic a week before valentines day!</p>
<p>title from taylor swift's (who's even surprised anymore) gold rush!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Valentine’s Day aisle at the CVS down the street from the apartment was, in Tom’s opinion, a mess of red and pink. It had been pretty picked over, that was true. And the problem was he didn’t know what he was doing. Shiv hadn’t exactly been a fan of drugstore chocolate boxes and cheap teddy bears, and the last time Tom had picked up a heart box of candy had been for his high school girlfriend which felt like several lifetimes ago.</p>
<p>Greg had been secretly plotting his Valentine’s Day plans for the past several weeks-- much to Tom’s surprise. He hadn’t expected Greg to care much about the holiday, but when the Valentine’s Day stuff had started going up at stores, Tom had noticed a distinct change in Greg, who loitered in the Valentine’s aisles of stores and told Tom not to worry about dinner because he <i>definitely</i> had it taken care of. That probably meant a couple of bags of Big Macs or takeout Thai food from the place three blocks away that Tom had said he liked once, but he let Greg have this one. Worst case scenario, Tom would just eat something more palatable when they got back home.</p>
<p>The thing was that Tom didn’t really care much about Valentine’s Day. </p>
<p>He and Shiv used to go out for dinner, when she wanted to, sure, but it had been just another sort of date night. He had gone into this relationship expecting about the same-- but then he’d discovered how much Greg had liked it. For God’s sake, he’d spent twenty minutes in the card section last week picking out cards for his mother, Tom’s mother and father, Ewan, and, for some reason, their doorman and front desk clerk of their building. The man would be upset, even if he didn’t show it, if Tom didn’t buy him something, no matter how cheesy. </p>
<p>He selected the red box of chocolates and set it in his basket. Next to him, a man around his age was staring at the teddy bears with little candies attached, looking stressed about the whole ordeal. Tom thought that was a bit dramatic. It was cheap candy, not life or death. </p>
<p>“This is what I get for waiting till the thirteenth,” he said, and picked up what Tom thought was meant to be a black bear, but whose face was a bit lopsided. Tom looked over, trying to figure out if he was just talking out loud or was trying to strike up a conversation. He hoped it was the former, “Right?”</p>
<p>Evidently not. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Tom muttered. </p>
<p>“I don’t get the big deal,” the man said. Tom tried to gauge anything about him while they were standing in the fucking CVS together, “It’s just cheap candy and flowers that’ll die in a week.”</p>
<p>Tom was pretty sure this was the same words he’d heard from Shiv early on in their relationship, when he’d asked her what she wanted to do for the holiday. He sort of agreed, but hell, if it made Greg happy… why not?</p>
<p>Tom picked up another box, tossed one of the teddy bears into the basket and sighed, “Yeah. Something like that.”</p>
<p>Standing in the Valentine’s Day aisle of the CVS while another grumbling man-- given the state of his dress, Tom thought he was probably a finance type as well, who waited too long to buy anything expensive-- was not the kind of place Tom thought he would analyze his relationship. But his life had taken bigger turns in his life, and at some point he’d given up trying to make sense of it all.</p>
<p>It wasn’t that he didn’t care about being romantic or whatever. Sure, he thought the whole idea <i>was</i> cheesy and stupid and whatever, but if it made Greg happy-- why did it matter? He was still waiting for the day Greg grew tired of him and left him alone. It <i>was</i> going to happen, Tom was nearly certain… though the uncertainty grew more and more every day that Greg didn’t throw him out. If some chocolate in a heart box helped delay that, who was Tom to say anything?</p>
<p>Then there was Greg. Fucking Greg, who apparently thought Valentine’s Day was a wonderful holiday and not a marketing ploy, and who had a pink polo shirt ironed-- fucking <i>ironed</i>-- to wear tomorrow, and who had brought Mondale home a stuffed and squeaky conversation heart as his own Valentine’s Day present the other day. It was bright pink and said “puppy love” which Tom thought was ridiculously dumb but Mondale had been carrying around for two days straight. </p>
<p>So what did it fucking matter if Tom thought that it was all overrated. If maybe the idea of romance still left a sour taste in his mouth after all this time. If he thought that maybe he and Greg could just… exist. No need for marriage or anything overly romantic. That wasn’t Greg’s fault. The divorce wasn’t Greg’s fault, Greg’s desire to be romantic or whatever was just how he was. Tom needed to make a Goddamn effort, that’s what he thought.</p>
<p>Again, the CVS wasn’t the best place for these kinds of revelations.</p>
<p>“I think it’s a great holiday,” Tom said firmly. He selected a red bag to wrap it all in, and smiled, “A great holiday for romance. Or whatever.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Greg was noticeably absent from bed the next morning. Which was odd in itself, because it was the weekend, and Greg rarely got up from bed before eleven on the weekends. Mondale too was absent from his spot at the foot of the bed, which meant food was probably involved. </p>
<p>Tom grabbed the present from the top of the closet where he’d semi hidden it and trekked out into the kitchen, where Greg was whistling at the stove. Mondale was sitting politely at Greg’s feet and Greg tossed down what looked like a very small pancake, which Mondale attacked. </p>
<p>“Good morning,” Tom said. Greg turned around and waved his spatula, “What are you making?”</p>
<p>“Pancakes,” Greg replied, “They’re like, kinda lopsided but they’re almost done. Sit down.”</p>
<p>Tom slid into the chair, eyeing whatever Greg had wrapped in shiny red paper. Mondale, who had finished his little pancake, trotted over to return to his conversation heart which he’d abandoned under the table. </p>
<p>“Someone’s in a good mood,” Tom said, reaching down to scratch Mondale between the ears, “Happy Valentine’s Day dipshit.”</p>
<p>“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Greg replied, setting down a plate of pancakes, which were, Tom noticed, fucking <i>heart</i> shaped. He gave Tom a quick kiss on the cheek, sat down, and piled pancakes onto his own plate, “My mom used to make heart shaped pancakes, but now I’m thinking that she used a cookie cutter <i>after</i> they were already cooked and didn’t try to draw with the batter.”</p>
<p>“So what’s your plans?” Tom asked, dumping some onto his own plate. They were pretty lopsided, but he knew what they were right away, “Hey, you didn’t even burn these. Your mother must be so proud of you.”</p>
<p>Greg rolled his eyes, “You’re making fun of me on Valentine’s Day? That’s low dude.”</p>
<p>“I got you this,” Tom slid the back across the table, “It’s from your favorite store.”</p>
<p>“CVS?” Greg asked, peeking inside.</p>
<p>“I set foot into the CVS for you. I think that covers presents for the rest of the year. Is there coffee?”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah,” Greg popped up, “I went out and got you a latte.”</p>
<p>He set the paper cup down, where the barista had used red sharpie and drawn hearts on both their drinks. Maybe he was being too cynical after all.</p>
<p>“Open it,” Tom said.</p>
<p>Greg pulled out the tissue paper, which Tom had found left over from Christmas, and smiled, “Is this a heart chocolate box? Dude, nobody has ever gotten me one of those before.”</p>
<p>He set it on the table and pulled it open, examining them all carefully like it was an expensive wine list, and not drugstore chocolate. </p>
<p>“Here,” Greg handed over one, “This one’s peanut butter, you can have it.”</p>
<p>“It’s nine in the morning,” Tom replied, but that didn’t stop him from eating it, “What did you want to do today?”</p>
<p>“I made dinner reservations for tonight,” Greg said, taking a big bite of his pancakes, “But I thought that maybe we could spend the day here? I thought that would be nice because you’re kind of a dick to couples we see in general, so I thought it would be worse today.”</p>
<p>“How the fuck did you get reservations for Valentine’s Day that quickly?”</p>
<p>“I made them in October,” Greg replied casually. </p>
<p>“October?” Tom frowned, “We’d only been <i>dating</i> and not just fucking for two months by then. What the fuck Greg?”</p>
<p>“I was hopeful,” Greg shrugged, “it’s whatever.”</p>
<p>“Finish opening it,” Tom said, mostly to get the topic changed. He didn’t like that anybody, much less Greg was hopeful in him. It was too much pressure, “Look I know it’s not a big gift but-”</p>
<p>“Don’t apologize for giving me cheesy Valentine's Day shit. I love it. Nobody’s ever given me this kinda shit before. I mean, look at this fucking teddy bear, man. That’s cute as hell.”</p>
<p>“I can’t believe I’m with you voluntarily,” Tom replied.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Not only had Greg made a reservation months ago, but it was at an incredibly fancy restaurant that Tom was pretty sure Greg couldn’t even pronounce the name of. But he’d gotten dressed, let Tom make him put on a different tie, and here they were, with a sixty dollar bottle of wine and a table with a crisp white table cloth. </p>
<p>“This is a nice place,” Tom glanced around approvingly. He hadn’t really been around this many rich people since his divorce, and he wasn’t sure, really, if he still belonged with them. If he’d <i>ever</i> belonged with them, “I’m surprised they let you in.”</p>
<p>Greg’s Valentine’s Day present to him had been a tie pin, which was a bright silver color, which Tom had on now, to assure Greg that he did, in fact, like it. Tom had tried to offer another, albeit belated present for Greg, apologizing profusely for the difference in their presents. </p>
<p>“I know you like, maybe don’t get it, but this is literally a perfect gift for me. I don’t care about how much it cost. That chocolate is fucking delicious,” Greg had said, and Tom thought he was literally telling the truth. Tom had already started shopping online for something else anyway. Greg would just have to suck it up.</p>
<p>“Yeah it’s pretty nice,” Greg agreed, looking around to appraise the place as well, though Tom was fairly certain he was faking it, “It had good Yelp reviews.”</p>
<p>Tom rolled his eyes, “You check Yelp for things?”</p>
<p>“Yeah man, one time I didn’t and then I ended up getting food poisoning and when I looked it up, all the reviews were like, don’t go here ‘cause you’ll get food poisoning? So now I check.”</p>
<p>“Greg?”</p>
<p>“You want me to stop talking about food poisoning at the dinner table?” Greg guessed, setting down the menu, “Sorry.”</p>
<p>“No. Well yes, I do, but that’s not what I was going to say. I was <i>going</i> to say that I’m sorry that I didn’t realize how much you cared about Valentine’s Day. I’ll be better next year.”</p>
<p>“Dude, this was a good day. This wine is good, I had my body weight in chocolate-”</p>
<p>“You got a handjob after lunch.”</p>
<p>“I got a handjob after lunch,” Greg nodded, like that was a natural conclusion to his list, “It doesn’t have to be some fancy holiday, man. I just love you and everyday I’m amazed that you’re sticking around so it’s a little extra special on Valentine’s Day I guess.”</p>
<p>“You’re disgustingly romantic and I hate it.”</p>
<p>“I kinda think that you don’t,” Greg picked up his wine glass.</p>
<p>“It’s not me that’s sticking around. You’re the one that’s sticking around and putting up with me,” Tom said, admitting it out loud for the first time. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to say it, but he <i>hated</i> the idea that Tom was the one sticking it out, “I’m happier than I’ve been in years.”</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>Tom nodded.</p>
<p>“You’ve never said anything like that to me before.”</p>
<p>“Don’t get fucking used to it. You can hear it because it’s Valentine’s Day or whatever but tomorrow we go back to ignoring it.”</p>
<p>“Deal.”</p>
<p>“And tomorrow,” Tom continued, taking one of Greg’s hands across the table, “I don’t do shit like this in public. But you can have your day.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable,” Greg said.</p>
<p>“I know,” he gave Greg’s hand a light squeeze, “It doesn’t.”</p>
<p>“I had a good day with you,” Tom said. And it was true. They had gone out for a late morning walk by the river and gotten take-out to bring home for lunch. Sometimes, when he and Shiv were together, Tom thought he had to fill the silence, or else she’d grow bored and get up to do something, but Greg, who never shut the fuck up most of the time, filled the silence between them nicely, and even when he wasn’t talking, Tom never got the impression that he was bored or wanted Tom to talk. Some of the walk had been quiet and that was <i>fine.</i></p>
<p>“I had fun too,” Greg smiled, his lopsided, goofy smile, “I don’t want to like, make you feel weird, but wait till you find out next year’s plans.”</p>
<p>“You think we’ll really still be together then?” Tom asked, disgusted by the hopefulness in his voice.</p>
<p>“Babe,” Greg chuckled, “No offense, but you’re annoying as shit. I’m the only one qualified to put up with you. So yeah. I think so. ”</p>
<p>“You’re one to fucking talk.”</p>
<p>“I say with, like, respectfully you know?”</p>
<p>“I know,” Tom couldn’t help but smile. </p>
<p>He <i>hated</i> how Greg could make him smile. Like Greg thought Tom deserved it. And Goddamn it. </p>
<p>Maybe he did.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hope you liked it! i'm in a very fluffy mood so uhh forgive me</p></blockquote></div></div>
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